


Damned things

by curious_eleny (curious_werewolf)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cursed Dean, M/M, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curious_werewolf/pseuds/curious_eleny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>every day cursed Dean becomes a new something<br/>written for meme</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damned things

Day 1.

Sam puffs a relieved and doomed sigh when Impala tries to kick him with its right back wheel for touching the trunk.  
He finally found a thing his brother-idiot was turned into.  
“Dean?” he asks carefully.  
Impala bristles its bamper whiskers, annoyed, and presses side mirrors to the body.  
“Told you to keep your hands off that red chick...” - Sam groans, getting himself on the warm back of the driver's seat.  
Dean manages to make a certain insulting gesture with a wiper. 

Day 2.

It's not Sam's fault he had to talk to hot witches alone.  
Pretty girls with a 400-years old feminism were a bit pissed off with drunk Dean "objectifying women like some unanimated things" - so, yeah, Sam's sympathy wasn't an act. And now he had thanks for reducing the spell term.  
Sam curses and swips the key-card once more.  
The lock diode gives him a playful wink.  
“Dean”, Sam sais patiently. “If you are not letting me in - I'm gonna take Baby and roll up to the nearest bar.”  
The door opens a bit and and then slaps hard - right at his face, hitting the very tip of his nose painfully. Sam growles, tempted to barge in with a kick, but changing his mind - his brother is upset.  
“Open Sesame!” he tries. “Pretty please?”  
The door opens as if offering a hug, letting Sam in and creaking venomously. And then it smacks his ass with relish.  
“Jerk!” Sam hisses. Huge mistake - he has to sneak through the window to get his dinner now.

Day 3.

The most scarry thing in Sam's life? Forget the fucking clowns.  
Precisely those are everyday items that make him scarred for life.  
Such as a shower - enlacing his soaped thigh playfully, climbing up stubbornly to pet Sam's hair in a sudden chick flick moment.

Day4.

"Dean?" Sam calls wary. Room is way too silent. Sam stops chewing on pizza at looks at it thoroughly. Olives are like glassy pupils - his appetite's gone for good. So he grabs his Frappuccino and drinks. Coffee is proper cool - in a contrast with warm straw. Sam yells and jumps to the sink - washing his mouth hysterically.  
Straw is making happy bubbles at the forgotten cup.

Day 5.

“Bang!” his boxers inform happily. “Baaang?”.  
That’s just as he thought he forgot “The Thing” in a hotel room.  
“Bitch!" Sam yells. “Stop! Banging! Me!”  
Underwear curles up in a hurt form, sunk to the darkest abyss of its misery.  
And it’d be totally fine with Sam, but thong on his ass became the revelation of the year for him. 

Day 6.

“Not used to hunt alone”, Sam mutters, settling his legs across the old motel chair. Puts his injured knees on the armrest and cuddles up, pressing his cheek into the battered chair back.  
He's so tired he doesn't even twitches as the other armrest hugges him gently, embracing as if he was a small child again.  
And so he falls asleep.

Night 7.

Whom or what would you grab to save from the fire in the first place?  
Let’s specify the point: what’s the main thing for you while you are falling off the leaning old house and – there is a mad ghost raging in there?  
Sam drapes Dean’s jacket over his shoulder (how that thing has got to the box with pizza remains anyway?).  
He squints at the fire, shivering under the night chill – barefoot and unarmed.

And he knows he did right - even before the leather jacket covers his shoulders with warm hands of his brother. And Dean chuckles, surprised.


End file.
